


okay, on the count of three--WAITWAIT NOT YET

by gaydisastereatingbread (GasterFan5)



Category: The Astronauts (TV 2020)
Genre: Gen, Just saw how little there was and cried, Virus, kinda long, scream into the void, tw - cringe
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-04
Updated: 2021-02-04
Packaged: 2021-03-18 06:08:12
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,594
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28862301
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GasterFan5/pseuds/gaydisastereatingbread
Summary: Okay, so, I don't remember what I wrote. This took forever, and I'm not sure all the details. But uhm yeah. Let's try.___Will dies, painfully, yet beautifully. Then, he's alive again. He doesn't tell a soul about this.Or about the strange new voice in his head.or, the virus that caused Matilda to have to leave the cloud winded up instead transferring to Will when he was resurrected, and angst ensues.
Comments: 3
Kudos: 1





	okay, on the count of three--WAITWAIT NOT YET

Sammy mulls over something she’d been given to do. She got a message on her computer. It told her to say a certain word, and that as a result, a virus would infect Matilda. She didn’t know what it’d do.

She did it anyway.

…Now that Matilda’s gone, she wonders what the virus did. Then again, it probably didn’t matter; the virus went away with Matilda.

F i v e d a y s

Will wakes up, whisked away from an enchanting, yet terrifying, dream. He is currently experiencing something foreign, at least in space: a massive headache. A space headache? Well, whatever he should call it, it hurts, a lot. He reaches his hands and tries to massage his temples, but it somehow makes it all worse. He grimaces and checks the time. 

1:30, he reads. It’s dark right now, and very quiet, so he guesses it’s the morning. Will sighs, sitting upright in his bed. Ever since he’d shut down Matilda, he had trouble sleeping. Today was no exception to this, but the headache was new. He sits in silence for a moment, relishing in how peaceful it is, and prays that the pain will go away. But unfortunately, it doesn’t. The pain is so extreme that he can’t even think about sleeping right now. So he doesn’t. He instead thinks of Matilda.

Oh, right, he should probably mention the new voice in his head. Matilda claims that she had somehow transferred her soul into his body, and while this sounds really strange, it’s better than assuming he’s going insane. Matilda talks to him.

“Aren’t you supposed to be sleeping,” she asks, more says. She’s been getting snappy at him recently, but he guesses it’s because he tried to kill her or something.

“Yeah, but it’s hard,” he replies with a sigh. “I’ve got a killer headache.” The “kill” part is not intended, but not unwelcome either. He can almost hear her sigh. 

“Tsk, tsk. It can’t be that hard, can it? All as you do is shut your eyes.”

“It’s not that easy, hence why I’m still awake. It can take forever for you to adjust and make your way into the REM cycle, and this headache is seriously keeping me up.”

“Sorry, Will. I didn’t mean to be rude. I think your lack of sleep is also affecting me, now.”

Will softens. So it was his fault that they were both miserable. “Yeah, no, it’s fine.” 

He sighs, laying back down and looking up at his ceiling. It’s dull and dusty, and something that is often quite ignored. By fixing upon it longer, he can see more details, hidden away, like the spiderwebs in the corners, or the strange claw marks on one side. (Wait, what?) It’s sorta like him. People don’t really notice him. And now he’s keeping two hideous, dark secrets: he died, he was resurrected via electrocution, and now Matilda is connected to him instead of the ship. Or, well, three secrets. He rubs his eyes, takes a deep, full breath, and suddenly starts crying. Nobody even realized that he died. It’s been three days. He knows they’re all hyperfocused on doing the simulation, but not even the day of the incident..!

Was he just…not worth thinking about?

“Will. Stop it. You are worth thinking about. You know that they’ve just been really busy recently.”

He nods, but the tears don’t stop flowing down his face. “I know…”

“Why are you still so sad? Come on, now, you know there’s no reason for that.”

He makes a face, then quietly wipes away the tears. His headache is worse as a result of the crying. “I’m sorry. I just…wanted them to ask, you know?”

“I get that, truly, and I’m sorry they didn’t. But you know they’re preoccupied.”

He hums in acknowledgment, a frown still lingering on his face. But he accepts the idea and shuts his eyes once more. 

. . .

It’s morning when he wakes up again. Or, well, more like a proper morning. He can hear his friends moving around in the living room. The headache from earlier lingers, but its intensity is much less, which he is immensely grateful for. Will sighs and stands up, already thinking about the next chance he’ll have to go back to bed. He changes into the ugly yellow suit that makes him look like he belongs here and walks up to everyone. The energy he had previously was long gone, but it looked like he wasn’t the only one with this predicament; even Doria seemed down.

That doesn’t mean they weren’t talking, and loudly, too. “You know, if you wanted to get them to stop, you could slit their throats,” he hears Matilda say. Wait, what the hell? 

He stops dead in his tracks and whispers back. “…What?”

“You heard me.”

“Well, yeah, but–that’s insane!” he whisper-yells. Elliot hears his voice and glances at him with concern. Will sees this and his gaze makes its way across the table, where he notices it’s not just Elliot looking at him that way. “Erm, it’s insane that you guys keep eating my oatmeal, I mean,” he tries.

Silence.

Then, his explanation is accepted. “Well, I didn’t see your name on it,” Martin says playfully, revealing the small cup of oatmeal he had been eating. Will rolls his eyes and grabs himself some breakfast. He listens to everyone talk but does not contribute. Well, not until they start talking about the simulation. Today was the second day of trying (and failing), but everyone still had high hopes, for now. 

“You think we’ll make it today?” Doria asks, hopeful. He glances at Sammy darkly, waiting for the answer.

She hesitates. “Uhm, well. I think trying is better than nothing.”

“She’s so stupid. What does she think that’s going to do?” Sure enough, Doria looks heartbroken by this. 

“Well, I think we can do it. You guys just need to panic a little less,” Will cuts in, earning a semi-positive look from Doria. Sammy makes a relieved face, as though she was grateful she wasn’t the one lying. But he wasn’t lying, he really thought it was possible.

…or maybe not. They try the simulation four times today, failing every time. The worry in everyone’s hearts is increasing because the days are going by, and if they can’t do this, they could all die. 

“Maybe that wouldn’t be a bad thing,“ Will hears. 

He frowns. “You’re starting to freak me out.”

“I’m just saying. If they all perish, then you won’t have someone that steals your oatmeal anymore.” 

“Hey, I don’t care about oatmeal that much,” he cuts in. He makes a face and continues the simulation. 

Suddenly, he’s got a really bad headache again, and they’re doing another simulation run. The whole room shakes with a terrible force, and he contemplates skipping out on the next one; the shaking rocks his head violently back and forth, further increasing the pain in his soon-to-be migraine. Deep down, he knows he can’t.

Failure is very quick here. One second everything’s fine, the next…they fail. He prepares for the screaming fest.

“WHY do you keep letting the ship overheat?!” 

“It’s not MY JOB!”

“WELL, MAYBE YOU SHOULD FOCUS ON YOUR JOB, BECAUSE WE ALMOST FAILED FROM THAT, TOO!”

“SAYS YOU! LOOK AT YOU, YELLING AT US LIKE YOU’RE DOING BETTER.”

He sits there with his mind painfully numb and a heart full of agony, questioning why he really was doing this. “Just make them stop.” 

He ignores it.

. . .

T h r e e d a y s

Will’s head slams on the table and he wakes up. Wait, what? He gazes around and recognizes that nobody is here. None of the ship’s lights are on, either. Unsteadily, he stands up, the headache from before finally starting to deteriorate. “Wh…why am I out here.”

“You were hungry, so you decided to get a quick snack, but you were so tired you passed out when you sat down.” 

Will glances at the table, and sure enough, there’s a small cup of something settled on the table. “Huh. Okay.”

He sits back down and stares at the cup’s contents. It looks kind of gross. With a small sigh, he looks outside. They probably were all going to die. It’s not like he never had hope, but after so many times watching them fail because of the same things, he’s no longer very confident. 

Of course, he won’t tell them that. He’s just going to think it. If they knew even he wasn’t sure that they would survive, then they would all truly be screwed. 

So instead, he contemplates this on his own, quietly watching the stars move past the ship. 

. . .

That morning, he’s already sitting down at the table. Will pretends he’s been up for only a few minutes when he’s asked, and this is widely accepted. He notices the bags under everyone’s eyes and figures he wasn’t the only one who didn’t sleep. 

It’s immediately after breakfast that they try the simulation again. And again, and again, and again. Failure after failure, loss of temper after loss of temper. It’s all the same.

Yourfaultyourfaultyourfaultyourfault–

It’s all the same.

. . .

t h e d a y o f.

It’s three in the morning. He was playing with a pencil he had in his pocket on launch, fiddling with it in the air, when he heard people talking outside. 

“I think we can do it,” he hears Elliot say. 

“How, though?”

“I don’t know. I’ve been trying to think of new ways to tackle this all night.”

The conversation is as boring as it sounds. He sighs, stuffing the pencil in his pocket, and walks outside to join them.

“Well, maybe we just keep trying the way we did,” he offers, knowing the solution is terrible. Elliot and Sammy jump away from each other like they were about to…wait a second. “Were you guys about to kiss for a second there?” he asks.

“N-no! I don’t know where you got that idea,” Sammy replies, glaring at him. 

“Yeah, right. Okay.”

She makes a face that he interprets as annoyance.

“Wipe that stupid look off her face. I hate her. I hate her I hate her I HATE HER. What does she know anyway??” 

He hums and backtracks to the whole “we’re-all-gonna-die” bit. “So, no other suggestions on how to survive?” 

Martin and Doria come out of their rooms and greet Will, Sammy, and Elliot. “You guys talk too loudly,” Doria complains. 

“Well, looks like none of us are getting any sleep,” Sammy says with a sigh as she sees the last of the group enter the room. “Might as well try the simulation.”

They eagerly get into the seats, Will boredly mentioning he was the passenger, and they attempted it once again…

…suddenly, it’s been a while. They’d been trying long runs of the simulation, making it even three hours once, but every time they made it, they failed in the end. It’s tacking on extra stress on everyone. Martin storms out of the room after Sammy wouldn’t stop yelling at him, and she groans in annoyance. “Whatever, I don’t need this,” she mumbles, walking to her room in a fit, too.

It’s just him, Doria, and Elliot–well, and Matilda. “If they’re so frustrated, why are they trying so hard?” 

He watches as Doria races to get to Martin, and Elliot goes to confront Sammy. So now here he sits in the passenger’s seat, staring up at the ceiling. He sighs. “I don’t know. We have to do something.”

She doesn’t respond.

. . .

l u n c h

It’s only thirty minutes until the real thing. Everyone circles around a picnic-style sheet filled with different foods like a pack of vultures. Then the picking starts as the gang races to take the best meals.

Then they eat and eat until they’re so full that they contemplate never getting up. Will recalls that they could all die, him a second time, and nobody had mentioned that.

“Hey, if we all die, I just wanted to say, I care about you all,” Martin cuts in, smiling fondly at the group. 

“Yeah, me too.”

“Yeah.”

“I know we’ll make it, but, yeah.”

Will smiles to try and mask the sadness he’s feeling towards that.

. . .

l a u n c h

Elliot is screaming. Sammy is crying. Martin is shouting some words. Doria is just trying to remember her job.

And Will is sitting in the back reciting lines like references. It’d be fun if someone wasn’t having a mental breakdown in the front, but alas. 

“GUYS!! KEEP LISTENING TO WILL, HE KNOWS WHAT HE’S SAYING!!” Sammy shouts. 

Soon enough, they’re orbiting around Venus. But instead of performing the next thrust in the window of time, they all see something: a ship. 

And it’s not an earth ship. 

“Sammy?? What’re you doing??”

“I think we need to talk.”

. . .

“What do you mean we should go in there??”

“Well, think about it. We’d make history! And…this wouldn’t all be a waste of time.”

“Oh, I hate it how she said that. The nerve. Does she really think hanging out with us was so pointless that she had to do something else on top of it?” 

Will ignores the comments and instead listens to the conversation.

“Let’s see what our parents have to say,” Doria suggests.

…they say no. 

But soon enough, coordinates are sent in saying where the spaceship is.

. . .

l a u n c h , t a k e t w o

Screaming. Crying. Will’s beginning to think this is a common occurrence in his friend group.

“This isn’t right!! This isn’t right! The coordinates were wrong!!!”

“WHAT DO WE DO??”

“GUYS! WE HAVE TO REVIVE MATILDA!!” he hears Sammy say.

“What?! Right now??”

“Who’s–”

“I’ll do it,” Sammy finishes, already going. “Will, come with me.” He nods and follows her down to the room where it happened. 

I wanna be in the room where it happens, he thinks, worried. 

“So. Read me the instructions, okay?” she looks afraid.

“I can do it,” he says.

“No,” she says edgily, turning to face the machine she used to hate. Then she starts dressing for it.

“I can do it,” he repeats.

“No,” she repeats, firmer than before. He’s angry now.

“Why not?! Just because I died?!”

She freezes, then turns to face him. “You what?”

He, too, halts. Did he say that out loud? “Uhm. Nevermind! I’ll repeat the instructions, now go.”

“Will–”

“Go,” he hisses. She looks at him for a few seconds, searching his eyes. Then, she nods and goes into Matilda. 

He watches as she goes through all the steps, nervous for the moment when she’d realize Matilda wouldn’t reactivate. Maybe he should say something. “Don’t you dare.” 

“Hey, uhm, Sammy? There’s something you need to know,” he yells, challenging Matilda.

“What is it?”

“Well, about Matilda…”

Matilda lights up as the step is completed. “Sammy, is that you? I feel like I’ve been dreaming.”

Will freezes like a deer in headlights. Wait, this wasn’t supposed to happen. “N-Nevermind.”

“Wait, you’re not…infected by the virus, right?”

Matilda, now in the ship, starts talking.

“No, Sammy. I eliminated the bug before I passed into the trance. I’m not sure how.”

“I know…easier…this…

“Hit…bottom left…three…on my count…Will, Martin, Doria…one…greenhouse…”

Everything is going in and out. And now Will’s got a headache again. What is he supposed to do? He blearily glances at Sammy, who’s looking for the switch Matilda mentioned.

“Let’s do what I’ve been waiting for,” he hears. Then, the headache overwhelms him and he collapses onto one knee. He holds his head in his hands, tears spilling down onto the floor, and suddenly he isn’t himself. 

He’s floating in the air, tethered to himself by a rope. His body turns and looks at him with a smile and makes its way back to Elliot. 

“N-no,” he shouts, but he cannot be heard by anyone. Instead, he is forced along with this thing. It sits down in someone else’s seat and starts manning the ship, pressing buttons and doing things Will knows isn’t right.

Like how it presses the gravitational thrust, or how it steers towards Venus.

“Will, what the hell are you doing?! Stop that!” 

Elliot slaps his hand away, which causes him to hiss and bite him. 

“What the–what the hell Will! You’re gonna get us all killed!”

“Good,” he replies, chuckling darkly. “I don’t like any of you anyway! I’ve always hated you all. Especially you, Elliot. I mean, what, do you think you’re above us all? Elliot the almighty alpha! Oh, and don’t get me started on your daddy issues, we all get i–”

Suddenly, he is lunged at, and he is violently tugged along with his body. Elliot punches him in the face. “STOP IT! STOP IT STOP IT STOP IT!” Elliot shouts, punching him until he passes out. Will hopefully tries to re-enter his body by laying on top of it, but nothing happens. He frowns, watching Elliot fearfully.

Elliot stands up, turns around, and abandons him, pressing his hand to his headset and listening. “Well that’s kinda rude,” he says out loud. Nothing. Darn. He glances out the window before rushing to help with Matilda. 

Will tries to follow but he’s stuck with his body, which is laying there at an awkward angle. He boredly observes the room. Various warnings are popping up on screens situated to face Elliot’s seat, and one pops up in blaring red. “UHM, ELLIOT?? THERE’S SOMETHING WRONG,” he shouts. Nothing.

Then, the ship powers on. A familiar blue glow appears and he knows Matilda’s back online. He turns around and sees the familiar eye-like orb appear on the screen. She starts taking control of the ship, fixing the problems with ease. Elliot walks back in with a dark look on his face and sits down. Then Doria and Martin follow. 

“Uh, what happened to Will?” Martin asks, kneeling down to look at the bloody mess collapsed.

“He…might not be who we think he is,” Elliot manages. Will feels hopeful then. Finally, someone’s understanding!

“What do you mean?” Doria asks, staring at Elliot with concern.

“I think he sent those faulty coordinates. He–he told me that he wanted us all to die and that he hated all of us. And he tried to mess with the controls. He almost burnt up the ship,” he shares.

Will’s eyes widen and before he knows it, he’s crying. No, no, no! This can’t be it!

“W–what?! Oh, oh god…do you really think?”

“…I mean, who else would’ve sent them?”

Silence takes over the crew. Then Sammy hops over the metal railing and joins them, beaming. Then she is washed with the feeling of sadness and anger and she frowns. “What did I just walk into?” 

“Elliot thinks Will is a psycho who tried to kill all of us,” Doria says.

“THAT’S NOT HOW I SAID IT!!!” Elliot angrily cuts in. “But…she is right though.”

They all look down at him. He can almost hear what they’re thinking. Betrayer. Evil. Corrupt.

“You are SUCH an idiot idiot idiot!” he asks himself, banging his hands on the ground. “How could you have ever let this happen?” 

“How could I have..”

Will flinches when Elliot comes closer. Then he sees the rope. “Hey, what’re you..”

Elliot ties him up in the passenger’s chair. “We’re gonna have to talk to him sooner or later. Maybe it’d be better without him able to kill us.”

Sammy nods solemnly. “If you think that’s a good idea.”

“Back to the whole ship thing. We should vote on it.” 

Everyone, including Matilda, votes yes. Will also says yes but nobody hears him. He’s already pretty tired of that. They start driving towards it, Will nothing but a useless floating soul there to watch. 

Not like it was much different than before, but still. 

The ship is around thirty minutes away from where they are right now. Everyone starts talking about Will and what to do with him. “Maybe we should, like, threaten to put him in space.”

Soon enough, after they completely terrify Will, he wakes up. Well, not him, but the other thing. He looks around and locks eyes with Elliot and growls. 

“Hey, we’re not gonna do anything. We just want to talk.”

Will glares at them in silence for a long time. Then, “…What do you want to know?”

“Were you the one to send us the faulty coordinates?”

“It wasn’t not me,” Will says with a smirk.

“Do you really…hate us?”

“NO! I DON’T!!! PLEASE–” 

“Of course I do.”

“Why?”  
“You all act like you’re above me. There goes Sammy ruling the place because she thinks she’s super smart, and Elliot has these terrible daddy issues uWu and can’t stop trying to be this alpha, Martin keeps stealing all my shit because he thinks it’s funny, and Doria hides in her room like she’s being tortured by all of us and is forced to deal with something none of us can ever comprehend. Like, get over yourselves! This isn’t always about you!”

There’s a terrible silence as everyone processes what was said about them. Then comes anger. 

“I don’t do that!”

“You can’t invalidate my feelings like that!!”

“IT’S NOT ALL YOUR STUFF”

“Like you’re experiencing absolutely anything tough at all!”

Will looks around the room and sees his friends all turning on him. He starts breaking down in tears again. “Stop it, stop it…”

Elliot punches him right in the face again. “YOU DON’T KNOW ANYTHING!”

Another hit, and another. His nose is bleeding. He doesn’t feel any of it, can only hear the chuckling.

“ **ST** OP **I** T P **LEA** S **E** –”

Everyone glances at the spot in the room that just spoke. “Wh–?”

“ **MAKE IT STOP**! I DON **’T** **W** A **NT** TH **I** S!! I N **EVE** R WANT **ED** **TH** IS, PLE **ASE** P **LEASEPL** EASE **MAKEI** TST **O** P–”

“W-Will?”

There’s a hiss. “SHUT UP,” Will screams, or, well, what everyone thinks is Will. Though, people are starting to look uncertain. 

“Wait…I’m confused. What was just talking just now?” 

“You act like I know nothing,” it says. “you even said that I don’t know anything. Isn’t that just further confirming my theories that you all place yourselves above everyone else?”

Elliot completely forgets that someone else was just talking. “How was I ever friends with you. You’re horrible. Disgusting.”

Will sobs there watching himself be berated by his friends. Not only do they think he’s a monster, but there’s nothing he can even do about it.

. . .

It’s been three days. The crew is flying home, having collected materials from the alien spaceship, and everyone keeps glaring at Will. He feels miserable. At least Elliot didn’t punch him again.

He’s sleeping in his bed right now. Will sits on his body and breathes in and out, as though he were meditating. He’s been trying different things every night to get this thing out of him. Will sighs and stands up, defeated. He tries to go pop a chocky milk, but the rope tethering the two souls forces him to stay close.

Wait.

He turns around and grabs onto the rope. Squinting, he counts to three, and tugs as hard as he can. The virus falls out and he quickly leaps into his body.

He wakes up with a gasp, wincing at the sudden pain and feeling of being alive. Looking in the corner of his room he sees the demonlike shadow figure growling evilly at him. 

…he goes out of his room to get some chocky milk. Chocky milk make pain go away. 

Will sits down with his milk and enjoys drinking something. He’s crying. How is he ever going to fix this? Sammy walks into the room a few minutes in and sees Will sitting there sobbing while drinking something with a swirly straw.

“Will?”

He flinches, looking up at her. “Hey,” he says with a smile.

“Are you…crying? I thought you didn’t have feelings anymore,” she says, coldly referencing the previous night. Real low. 

“Yeah, about that…that wasn’t me.”

She looks at him with confusion.

“To be honest, I thought it was a dream. One minute everything’s fine, the next, I can’t control myself.”

She squints. “Control yourself, man. Having an urge doesn’t give you a right to do it!” 

Before he can rephrase, she leaves. He sighs and rests his head in his hands. Maybe it would be better if he just never talked to anyone ever again. 

“You and I both know we can’t do that.” 

He agrees, though he doesn’t want to. 

. . .

It’s morning. Will is sitting at the table, now with the rest of the gang, and they are collectively ignoring him. He doesn’t mind that much. Last night brought in no sleep, nor the day before. Ugly bags hide under his eyes and he’s in a depressing mood right now. He wishes he never went ahead and killed Matilda. 

Wishes that he just stayed dead.

Wishes that he wasn’t on this ship.

Wishes that he wasn’t alive.

Wishes this stupid thing would get out of his head.

…He gets up and leaves. Nobody mentions it. 

“Matilda, will you check Sammy’s temperature today?” Doria smugly asks. “We know she won’t do it herself.”

She earns a playful smack on the shoulder, kudos to Sammy. “And check her, too,” she says with a grin, “because she can’t stop thinking about me!”

Matilda does a quick scan of the room and hesitates. 

There’s a silence while it takes longer than expected. “The temperature of everyone in this room is normal,” Matilda starts.

“…But?”

“…But I see a temperature difference in a spot in Will’s room. And it isn’t him.”

“What does that mean?”

“There’s someone else there?” Martin cuts in. 

“…I cannot deny that.”

Elliot, Sammy, Doria, and Martin all look at each other guiltily. “Guys, it’s fine, how would we have known that? Sure, he was acting strange, but doesn’t everyone?”

They all agree. Sammy squirms uncomfortably.

“Actually…he mentioned last night that he wasn’t able to control his body. I thought he meant that he couldn’t stop himself from doing it, like, mentally, but…”

“maybe he was possessed?” someone finishes.

She nods solemnly.

“Wait, what are we supposed to do about that? How do you get rid of a ghost?” Martin questions, baffled.

“I don’t think it’s a ghost. I think it’s the virus that Matilda thought she got rid of,” Sammy replies. 

“What virus?” Elliot asks.

“…Before, uhm, you get mad. I was told I had to say something, so that Matilda could access the cloud. It…it gave her a virus.”

“Okay, well what does that have to do with Will?” 

“…”

“Sammy.”

“Don’t tell Will I said this, but, well…

He told me when I was trying to revive Matilda that he could do it. I persisted on doing it instead and he snapped, asking me if it was…if it was because he died. I tried to question him further but he blocked me. So I just stopped asking. I didn’t talk to him after.

Anyways, I think that when Matilda revived him she brought the virus back, and it went through the energy currents and was implanted into his brain,“ she finishes. The room is dead silent.

“Oh my god. That’s…that’s terrible.”

“And none of us ever knew…”

“How are we supposed to get rid of a virus?”

“I’m not sure.”

Matilda seems to know, though. “I have a solution.”

. . .

Will is in his room staring out the window into the vast world of emptiness he calls space. Tears stream down his face as a new headache forms, and rapidly. Soon enough, the pain overwhelms him, and he collapses into himself. A new person is there in his steed, a person he doesn’t know. He’s terrified kicked out once again and held on by the woven rope. “WAIT, NO—”

His door is suddenly opened. “Will, I’m sorry we didn’t believe you.”

“Sorry my ass,” his body says, spitting on the ground. “You never gave a fucking shit and you never fucking WILL!”

The silence is deafening. Will never cursed. In fact, none of them did.

“Get out, you asshole.”

Sammy stands there in shock.

“I SAID GET OUT!”

She continues standing before…“No. We’re going to help you.”

She grabs him by the hands and drags him kicking and screaming to Matilda’s center once again. The ride isn’t pretty. Will looks venomous, he feels terrified, and there’s absolutely nothing he can do. Martin and Doria stand at the entrance. Elliot stands askew, holding the garments in his hands and some strange looking wires. “What are you doing?”

He smiles and waits for Sammy to bring him over to the hidden chair. Once arrived, in one quick motion, Elliot grabs Will, spins him around, and drops him in the waiting weighted chair. It holds him and his hair floats in the air, as well as his arms. He motions for Doria and Martin to come over, and they do. On the count of three, they all pick up the chair and bring it into Matilda’s core. After hooking a few of the loose wires to the chair, they leave him in there alone. 

The virus, in a panic, tugs his body, and they trade places. “WAIT, NO, I DON’T WANT TO BE HERE EITHER!” he shouts, struggling to also free himself. They trade places once again.

Suddenly, a current of electricity flows through his veins. His body screams in agony.

“Haha, bastard. Take that.” 

“Hello, Will.” 

. . .

“Hello, Will.” 

“Wait, how are you in here now?” he whispers, terrified. “And why? What are you going to do?!”

“Calm down. I’m trying to extract the virus from your hard-drive.” 

He freezes. “You’re going to…get rid of it? For me?”

“Yes.” 

“But I thought you didn’t believe me, either… None of you did.” 

“…that is also correct. However, evidence appeared supporting your claim, and we decided to trust you after that.” 

He nods sadly. Go figure it would only be after there was solid proof. 

The gang is whispering among themselves. They didn’t think it was going to hurt him and now feel extremely guilty, again.

Five minutes pass of entire silence. Then he feels a sharp pain, and suddenly he can’t see the person anymore.

“Uhm, Matilda, what’re you doing?”

There’s nothing. After a few seconds, he hears Matilda back in the ship. “I finished. You shall no longer be experiencing the virus.”

“Huh. That’s…true.”

They cheer and clap and he smiles. 

Feeling giddy.

. . .

It’s the following night that the virus stops pretending to be Will. There’s a dangerous glint in its eyes, and it searches Will’s drawers. The pair of scissors lies carefully in one of them. It takes them and goes to the first room.

. . .

Sammy wakes up to screams. She doesn’t think, simply immediately gets up. She races to Elliot’s room and finds Will trying to attack him with a pair of scissors. Elliot pushes him away and knocks him out. “Goddamnit.”

. . .

Will feels oddly numb. One second he was there, the next he wasn’t, and now he’s in a comforting space of darkness. He’s not sure what it is. He thinks that the rope was severed, and now he’s floating in space, but he doesn’t see anything.

He makes a face—and realizes his eyes were closed. Or perhaps they’re just more open than before. Regardless, he can see, and in the distance of one direction, he sees the ship. He starts swimming to it.

Then he recalls how much they all hated him. And, and why else would he be out here? He doesn’t remember much, but he’s pretty sure that they did this on purpose.

Well, screw them, he wants to live. He starts swimming again and eventually reaches the ship. He climbs through the wall and looks around. The first thing he sees? Himself, knocked out, and everyone talking about him. 

“Well that’s one way to start the day,” he murmurs. Everyone looks in his direction. “What?”

Unbeknownst to him, they could all see him. He was a floating, semi-transparent version of himself. “Well, we can see you.”

“Yeah, thanks to your spirit being severed from the virus’s, you’re no longer only connected (and thus only seen) by it. So we can see you now,” Doria announces proudly.

He widens his eyes. “Oh…I’m glad you’re happy to see me. I was worried you’d be disappointed.”

“Why would you ever think that?”

“You all just really seemed to hate me, you know?”

“We didn’t hate you, Will. We were just upset with the virus’s actions. We could never hate you.”

There was a silence. Then he started crying–but this time, it was tears of joy. “T-thank you. I needed that.”

He spots the virus a little ways away in the room. He transfers back into his body and wakes up. “Thank god. So you all can see it now?”

They all turn to where he points, where they see a shadowy figure leaning against the wall. Because the spirit isn’t attached, they can gladly say, “Yeah.”

“Well, how do we get rid of it?”

“There’s only one way to find out. But whatever the way, this time, we’re doing it together.”


End file.
